


Business as Usual

by Torchiclove



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Biting, F/F, First Time, beau loses her virginity to a shady crime girl, it's consensual just probably a bad idea, slightly skeevy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torchiclove/pseuds/Torchiclove
Summary: On an episode of Talks a few months ago, Marisha talked about the type of friends Beau made in her hometown.Jane was one of those friends.





	Business as Usual

Yesterday, Beau turned 18. 

She never particularly cared about her age, never saw it as anything more than a barrier, a number that only other people cared about. But it still felt good, reaching that milestone, that arbitrary point where people decided, for the most part, that she was an adult. And there were other perks, too.

She’d been excitedly awaiting the birthday all week, much more than usual. Her family had stopped caring about them a few years back, but Beau didn’t need family; she had new friends. They were passing through for a few weeks on a job, and she’d scored a few connections for them. 

Beau knew in the back of her head that the connections were the only reason this group decided to hang out with a shitty kid. They weren’t too much older than her—early to mid 20’s, but enough for it to be notable. She told them that hey, at least she’ll be 18 in a week, and they seemed _fascinated_.

There were four in the group, all shifty in their own right. She liked them all okay, but there was one in particular that caught her interest. Or, rather, Beau caught _her_ interest.

It was immediately noticeable, the sharp curl of her smile, thin eyebrows arched and tongue just poking out from the corner of her mouth as she glanced down at Beau in the shady tavern they met up in.

The leader—gruff, a little older—kept calling her ‘kid,’ and she hated him for it. She snapped after the third time, and they seemed to respect that. That’s when it came up, that she’d be an adult soon, and she watched the sharp smile curl even higher.

“So, what’re your names?” Beau asked. She’d already given them hers, and she felt like she was owed in return.

“Barrett,” said the leader, and they each followed in turn without missing a beat.

“Vickor.” He was the young, shitty-looking half-elf that oozed the energy of being the weakest link.

“Aila.” The halfling with what looked like a spellbook strapped to her hip.

“Jane,” said the one who’d been eyeing her, with the practiced elegance of a fake. It was understandable in this line of work, but still interesting.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, extending her hand towards Barrett. He shook, seeming surprised by the amount of force she mustered, and cracked a toothy grin.

“Pleasure.”

 

The week was mostly spent working—not a lot of time to get to know people, but there rarely was. Beau naturally gravitated towards Aila and Jane—Vickor was an all around ass and Barrett was too aloof to get close to. He spent most of his time away from the group, getting things done. Beau was left mostly with the task of informant, giving advice on the best places to go and people to talk to to get shit done. She was left in the dark on the details of the operation, but got the general gist. It was a pretty standard smuggling job, a lot of groundwork. Beau didn’t mind groundwork.

She spent more time than she usually got with these people, first studying their dynamic then finding her way to wriggle in. After three days, they invited her to come drinking with them and the thrill of the success coursed through her veins. Too many shots and a couple of misheard words later, they sat back as Beau happily leapt into a bar fight. She took a beating, but ultimately won, and Jane clapped her on the shoulder with a warm, amused smile.

The days passed, and with them more drinks, more time, more closeness with this group. A day before it happened, they mentioned doing something special for her birthday and she played it off, but she was so excited she could barely sleep that night.

Beau hadn’t celebrated a birthday—really celebrated—since she was a little girl. Sure, she’d get trashed in a local bar, but that wasn’t much different from a normal night. She’d never celebrated with people. She bounced into the tavern, smile spread wide across her face, and they were all waiting for her with wolfish grins. Barrett slapped her on the back and handed her a drink, and Beau felt an unexplainable warmth rise in her chest.

“How’s it feel?” Aila asked, a little snarky, standing up on her seat to reach eye level with everyone else. 

“Great,” Beau said breathily, cheeks sore from her wide grin. 

“You haven’t even gotten to the best part!” Jane said with mock offense, one hand thrown dramatically over her chest, “I got you a present.”

Beau was practically bouncing in her seat. “What is it?”

“Patient,” Jane said coyly, turning her head and giving a wink. Vickor whistled and Barret smacked him on the back of the head.

The drinks kept coming, all of them covering Beau’s tab, and she fumbled with a pleasant drunkenness, loud and obnoxious in the best way. They laughed at her jokes, and she laughed back, deep from her chest; she felt like she was on top of the world.

As the night started winding down, the energy hitting its peak and then waning, Jane slid over to sit next to her. “It’s time for you present,” she said, leaning in close, almost a whisper.

Beau felt a spark of nerves in her chest, but bravado and alcohol quickly quashed it. “Well what is it?” she replies, focusing all her energy on not slurring, on sounding as put together and seductive as Jane did.

Jane took her by the hand of stood up, tugging her loosely towards a staircase. “Come with me and find out.”

Beau followed her with glee, being led up the stairs and towards a room. It was the same as any other tavern room—a bed, chair, nightstand—but something about it felt magical. Jane pulled her closer and wrapped her arms around Beau’s neck, planting a slow kiss on her lips. She tasted like cherry wine, sweet and sharp. She pulled back, eyes half-lidded, voice husky, and said, “This your first time, sweetheart?”

“No,” Beau said on instinct.

“Now don’t lie to me,” she laughed, one hand snaking up to pull Beau’s hair out of its bun, watching as it cascaded down to her shoulders.

“Yeah,” Beau admitted. She had kissed before, but not gone much farther—never this.

Jane laughed again, high and musical, and pulled her toward the bed, pushing her down and sitting on her lap. She straddled her waist, kissing her neck and pulling with clumsy, drunken fingers at the hem of her shirt. She was sloppy and insistent, roving hands everywhere, nipping and sucking at every bit of exposed skin. She rolled her hips forward, finding friction against Beau’s thighs.

Beau swallowed heavily, heat pooling between her legs, and let out a breathy moan as Jane bit hard on the side of her neck. “More,” she said, needy and deep-voiced, and Jane smiled wide. She pulled Beau’s shirt over her head and did the same to her own, slowly twisting out of it. Beau swallowed heavily, and helped her with her breast band as Jane pulled at both of their pants. Before long they were both naked, heated skin pressed flush together, Beau’s vision hazy with alcohol and arousal. 

Jane returned to her slow, sloppy kisses, grinding harder against Beau’s thighs and moaning right into her ear. Beau hesitantly placed her hands on Jane’s breasts, feeling the soft, heavy weight of them, experimentally squeezing and rubbing her thumbs over her nipples. Jane hummed in approval, and it only made Beau’s arousal greater, made it almost all she could think about.

When it grew too much to bear, Beau slipped one of her hands down to give herself relief, and she felt Jane chuckle deeply against the side of her neck. She grabbed her wrist, delicate but forceful, nails threatening to dig into the skin. “Wait a second, sweetheart,” she purred, and without realizing it, Beau whined, loud and needy.

Jane shifted and pushed Beau back against the mattress. She sucked on her collarbone and slid one hand down, parting and exploring her, teasing her sensitive spots without focusing on anything. “You’re so wet,” she says, tauntingly, and withdrew her hand, resting it on the inside of Beau’s thigh.

“Please,” Beau whined, trying to roll her hips but trapped under Jane’s weight. 

“You should learn to be more patient,” Jane chastised, and moved her head down to sink her teeth into the soft underside of Beau’s breast, a sharp and sudden pain, but one that wasn’t unwelcome. 

“Do that again,” Beau said breathily, swallowing heavily.

Jane obliged, biting closer to her nipple, sucking dark purple bruises across Beau’s breast, occasionally teasing her with one light finger trailing up and down her inner thigh.

“Ready?” Jane asked, and Beau could only nod. 

Janed ducked her head down between Beau’s thighs and ran her tongue up the center of her, broad and slow, and Beau _screamed_ , body tensing as the sensation hit her.

“So sensitive,” Jane teased, and went in again, making slow circles around Beau’s clit. Beau could feel herself already on the edge, and it only took a little bit to push her over, another ragged scream filling the room as she came and her vision nearly went black.

Jane kept going, tongue pressing hard against her clit as she rode through the orgasm, until it was hypersensitive, almost painful. Beau tried to push her back, but after a few seconds she could feel it building again, the sensitivity fading and giving way to pleasure. Jane eased two fingers inside her, pushing deep and curling them forward, and that’s all it took, the second orgasm hitting her harder, leaving her panting and helpless.

Jane kept thrusting her fingers, but brought her head up to look at Beau’s face, satisfied smile curling across her face as she licked the slick wet off the sides of her lips. “Three time’s the charm,” she said, and went back down, pushing through again until a third orgasm hit Beau that felt like it would last forever, pulsing through her entire body.

Jane crawled up beside her, head on her chest as she listened to her pant, slick fingers trailing up and down Beau side, lips working slow and sure against her neck, her jaw, her cheek.

Jane gently grabbed one of her wrists and pulled in down between her own thighs, whispering, “Get to work, darling.”

Beau snapped somewhat out of her haze and shakily held two fingers out, following Jane’s guidance and bringing them inside her. Jane hummed softly in approval, and bucked her hips in time with Beau’s movements.

Beau made a deep, throaty noise, and kissed Jane on the lips, reveling in the weight of her pressing her down into the mattress, the insistent, increasing pace of her impatient hips as she sought her climax. Beau lowered her head and took one of her nipples into her mouth, lavishing it with her tongue, slowly rolling it between her teeth. Her other hand moved to press against Jane’s clit, and the composed humming devolved into a needy moan. Beau could feel the muscles of Jane’s thighs twitching as she approached the edge, and she pressed deeper, curling her fingers forward and biting down on her breast, just hard enough to sting.

Jane tightened around her fingers, a broken, breathy moan escaping her parted lips as her orgasm washed over her in slow waves. She gradually slowed the movement of her hips and collapsed against Beau’s chest, breath ragged, eyes hazy.

“You’re pretty good,” she said, reaching her hand down to pull Beau’s fingers out of her and lick them clean, her thumb softly caressing Beau’s hand as her tongue moved across the fingers, unfocused gaze locked fondly on her face.

“You too,” Beau said, voice hoarse, and she felt a wave of fatigue hit her. Jane hummed and lay down beside her, trailing lazy kisses up and down her neck, hands still exploring everywhere they could reach.

Beau smiled and nestled into one of the pillows as Jane lavished her body, and the slow rhythm of it followed her into a hazy, dreamless sleep.

 

With the morning came the cold Wildemount chill, uninhibited. No body laid beside Beau, no hungry lips and roving hands. The room was empty, the only sign of last night Beau’s clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor. She stood, confused, and got dressed with quiet contemplation. She stuck her head outside the door and there was nobody; the bar was empty except for a quiet worker cleaning glasses.

Beau felt her heart drop sickeningly into her stomach, guts twisting as she realized they just _left_. But it made sense—the job was over. They had to get out of town, not hang around, not look suspicious. It’s just what people do in this line of work. It’s just how it _is_.

Beau walked home with a heavy heart, feeling itchy, feeling _dirty_. The bruises covering her stung, a constant reminder of the way Jane’s mouth felt against her skin. She thought about Jane too much; she felt sick with it, like a scent she couldn’t get out of her head, filling her lungs and choking her. She thought, with a wry despair: _this is what love is_.

It followed her, clung to her, the memories of those people and _her_ in particular, how it all felt, the heady joy and lightheartedness of belonging. 

More people passed through, as they always did—there were more one night stands, chasing that slippery feeling that Beau craved, but it was never the same. There was always something missing, more hollow emptiness as she woke up in the morning alone, hungover. 

The months slipped by, and slowly, it began to fade, the thoughts of Jane, the memories of that night. That is, until Beau caught word that they were back in town. Her network of contacts was ever-growing, and rumors spread fast. She waited for them to contact her, but after a day of nothing, her hope wore thin. She learned through whispers where they were staying, and she went to the tavern that night.

Sure enough, the four of them were sitting there, just as she remembered them—laughing, drinking, enjoying a night of revelry. 

She walked in casually, like it was just a coincidence, and took a few steps forward before turning her head to their table. “Hey!” She said, keeping her expression as neutral as possible, “What’re you guys doing here?”

The laughing stopped and they eyed her, expressions misted with vague recognition. “Working,” Barrett said gruffly.

Beau slid over and put her hands on the table. “What kinda job we talking? You need something? Contacts, or–”

“We don’t need anything from you, Beau,” Jane said, and her eyes were cold, void of that spark of interest that lit a fire in Beau’s heart all that time ago.

“Right, no problem. You wanna grab a drink for old time’s sake?” She tried to keep her voice level, but she felt like bile was rising in the back of her throat, choking the words.

“We’ve actually got work to do,” Jane said, sighing.

“Gotcha,” Beau said quietly, a pained smile spread across her face, and she backed up a few steps. “See you guys around then.”

She ducked out of the tavern quickly, feeling sick to her stomach, chest seizing as her breath came faster and faster. The cold night air hit her and she could feel the sting of tears in the back of her eyes. She squeezed them shut and tried to force it back, tried to swallow the painful lump in her throat.

It was stupid to assume they’d want to see her again—that their friendship was anything more than _business_. Everything that happened was business, nothing deeper.

She tore through the city, keeping the tears at bay, quick to find the closest tavern with passable ale. She drunk herself into a haze, numbed enough that she couldn’t think about it, that she could barely think about _anything_.

Beau’s head hit the hard wood of the table, vision blurry as she felt her consciousness slipping from her. She took in a deep breath, and the stained wood smelled just like Jane.

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this a really long time ago and just? finished it? what is writing. college has consumed my life.


End file.
